The Source of Pain
by RizRat
Summary: Sequel to The Fallen Angel. Vash's mischevious son lives his own life, and holds a past he'd rather hide from his father
1. Default Chapter

Ok, this is the first chapter of the sequel to The Fallen Angel, this is, The Source of Pain. Hope you like it!  
  
The Source of Pain  
  
Chapter 1  
  
B. T .S.   
  
"He ran through the city, more than a thousand men in hot pursuit. He turned down an alley. When his pursuers turned the corner, they're prey had disappeared. One man spotted him on the roof tops. They began stacking things to climb. He had jumped an impossible twenty feet in the air to the roof! The chase was on again. B. T. S. jumping roof to roof–."  
  
"Impossible! How could he have outran one thousand men shooting at him! You're making up more stories again!"  
  
"Not to be rude sir, but you must realize, only about ten of the men were able to shoot, the others were behind them, and would have killed the person in front of them, had they shot. And, I am not making this up."  
  
The blond haired boy stared across the table, smirking lightly, swirling his drink softly. The old man glared. One of the many people gathered around the table urged him to continue his story.  
  
"When B. T. S. reached the end of the line of buildings, he was forced back to the floor, the men, had to climb down, one by one, and by the time they had chased B. T. S. halfway through the desert, they realized they had lost. The men were lost in the desert for many horrible nights. A few days later, one of them sat in the local saloon. He noticed B. T. S. Sitting in a stool at the bar. He turned at smiled at the man. The man sat down his drink and walked out of the bar, not wanting anything more to do with B. T. S."  
  
Everyone around the table stared in silence as the boy took a sip of his drink. They waited patiently for him to continue. He reached down into the pockets of his pants. He pulled out a small gold round object, with the push of a button, it flipped open. The silence that hung over the crowd was intense that the clicking of the small pocket watch could be heard across the room.   
  
"Well, looks like it's time for me to go!" Everyone slumped their shoulders.   
  
"Will you be back tomorrow, Blake?" One old man asked.   
  
"If you want me to come back."  
  
"Only if you tell more stories about B. T. S. Everything else out of your mouth is about women."  
  
"Heh. Yeah, I'll do my homework and find ya a good story, one ya haven't heard yet."  
  
He walked out silently. His blonde hair fell in his one blue eye, and his one green eye. 'The sun is so bright, everyone else is warm. But I feel cold. Why?'  
  
The door to the small home squeaked open. "I'm home!"  
  
A light voice yelled back from the kitchen. "Blake, where have you been! You had me and your father worried sick!" A black-haired women poked her head out the doorway to watch her son remove his shoes and pick up his backpack.   
  
"Iris, I wish you wouldn't talk like that. It's not right to lie."  
  
A single tear fell down Iris's cheek. 'Why do you do this to us Blake, to yourself? Why?'  
  
He walked up the stairs to his room and laid down on the bed. 'I can sleep for three more hours.'  
  
He woke up at 8:45. Exactly 3 hours later. He grinned.   
  
"Vash! Iris! I'm going out, I'll be home soon!"  
  
"You have school tomorrow, don't be gone too long!"  
  
He leaned up against the wall at the back of the saloon. A young looking girl walked out the door, still wearing her uniform, but by the sight of her coat, she was obviously headed home. When she noticed him, she turned and put her hands on her hips.  
  
"If you're looking for handouts, your not gonna get any!"  
  
He smiled. One arm snuck behind her back, pulling her close, the other hand snaked its way up to her face. She gasped as his lips met hers. He pulled away.  
  
"Please, I really am starving." She pushed him off her.  
  
"Dammit, you do this every time I work!"  
  
He had to smile again, her dark brown hair fell in her face, almost covering her eyes completely. He used his hand the tuck the bangs behind her ear, trailing his fingers along her skin. She shivered.  
  
"You have beautiful eyes. You should keep your hair from covering them."  
  
She stamped her foot and turned on her heel. "Good bye!" And with that, she walked away.   
  
He smiled, then winced as a rock flew into his forehead. She was quiet a gal.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The next day, Blake returned to the small tavern. The old man, who seemed to have no other life than in the bottle, was, once again, eager for a new story.  
  
This time, the dark haired waitress leaned a suspicious ear in the way of the small round table.   
  
"More than a hundred men, all accusing B. T. S. of different horrible acts, were bickering amongst each other. Each claimed that he had been the one to kill one of their loved ones during a time of the day, but if he had done even one of those, he couldn't have possibly done the others, for how could he kill millions of people, in different parts of the desert, in the means of minutes? So, while the ignorant townsfolk fought, B. T. S. waited patiently for them to decide who was going to face him, and played a game of solitaire, which he lost, so a new game was dealt. And, further through the evening, he packed up his cards, and went to bed with the setting sun. No one noticed his absence until the morning, when they found him in the local tavern."  
  
The old man broke out in hysterical laughter. "That little shit! I'm sure he thinks he can get away with just about any damn thing he wants! And he always has a cocky way of doin' it too!"  
  
The other old man sitting there, scoffed. "Folks ain't that stupid. They wouldn't jest let him walk away, and they wouldn't let him play one game, let alone two games of solitaire."  
  
Blake shrugged.  
  
And then he noticed the girl sitting by him.  
  
"Just how is it that you know so much about him anyhow?"  
  
Blake calmly looked at the girl. She suspected that he was making all of this up, and he just wanted to entertain an old man who had nothing to live for except a little bit of good company.  
  
Half the truth.  
  
Not that Blake was going to tell her the truth. Even if he did despise lying, something he had picked up from his foster father, he couldn't tell her the truth.  
  
"He's a good friend of mine."  
  
"Then let me ask you this, what does B. T. S. stand for?"  
  
He stared at her a moment in her eyes, debating whether or not to tell her. The old men leaned in closer, equally eager to hear the boys answer.  
  
"Talk to me when your shift is over."  
  
The girl reached behind her, and untied her apron. She calmly walked to the bar, layed the discarded piece of cloth on the table, and yelled, "I quit!"  
  
The, just as calmly, she retook her seat next to the blond boy.  
  
"Done."  
  
Blake blinked. What did she just? Why did she just? She quit her job?  
  
He blinked again.  
  
The old men looked like they just might pee their pants.   
  
"Blake the Stampede. Son of Vash the Stampede."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. One old man jumped in.  
  
"Ain't your name Blake?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then are you..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
The old man popped up in his seat so fast one would have the impression he hadn't aged past thirty. "Thank you for all the company you've been. But now I have to turn you in."  
  
The old man pulled off a mask to reveal a much younger man, somewhere in his 30's. He had dark blue hair, and blue eyes to match.  
  
The girl stood up and backed away a few steps. "Uh, daddy?"  
  
Blake turned to her, he saw it in her face. There was plenty of resemblance, not only did she have her father's dark eyes, but also his dark hair.   
  
"Hey honey, sorry, but I have to take your boyfriend away. One, he's killed many people and two, he's a liar, saying he's the son of Vash."  
  
Blake looked stunned. He knew Vash?  
  
"Sir, I'm only telling you what Vash himself told me to say."  
  
"Liar! Vash doesn't have a son, especially not the same age as my daughter."  
  
"In all honesty sir, I am four years younger than your daughter."  
  
The girl stamped her foot. "You told me you were 22! Now your telling me your only 16?!"  
  
The officer used his fingers to count years. "Um, that, uh, checks out. But I still don't know. You look the same age as her."  
  
"I never drank coffee, and I take after dad, being tall and all."  
  
"You do look like him..."  
  
"And why would I lie about something like this?"  
  
"To make yourself look good by saying your dad is the legendary gunman."  
  
"I could have said that my father was Knives. I would look like him too."  
  
"How do you know about Knives?"  
  
"He's my uncle." Blake smiled cutely, realizing he had already won the man over.  
  
"Well then, Blake, my name is Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Pleasure to meet you, and this is my daughter, Kira, also your cousin."  
  
Blake suddenly choked, he fell to his knees coughing harshly. Kira ran to the back of the tavern.  
  
"Did I say something wrong?"  
  
"How can you be my uncle? My dad's only brother is Knives..."  
  
"My wife is a sister to Iris, your mother."  
  
Oh boy.  
  
  
  
Ok, finally, here is the first chapter of the source of pain! Hope you liked it! Keep your eyes open for more! 


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, sorry I've been so slow lately. I haven't really wanted to write this until now.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, all characters and associations to the show belong to its respective owner. Iris, Blake, Kira, and Ryu are copyrighted to me. So is this main thing we like to pretend is the plot.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Y'know, sometimes you can look at a situation and say, Hell yeah! You know that when you walk away, you'll have gained something.   
  
Other situations, however, you can look at and say, damn. You know you'll come out on top, but not completely unscathed.   
  
And, some times, you just wanna yell. You don't care what you say, but you just have to scream to voice your anger. In these cases, you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.   
  
That's where I was now. The hard place: Vash and Iris, and everything we had worked so hard to protect. The rock: the beautiful women sitting across the table glaring at me......  
  
Kira sat across from Blake, watching him, her skin almost green with disgust. Vash and Iris sat on either side of the boy, and Kira's father sat beside her.   
  
No one dared say anything.  
  
"Anyone want a donut?" His question was ignored.  
  
Iris spoke next. "Nick, it's good to see you, but are sure that our son didn't make all those stories up?"  
  
"I'm sorry Iris, but I know he couldn't have made them up. They were too realistic, too deep. Or maybe I could be wrong."  
  
Iris looked at Blake. He had his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and he looked just like his father...  
  
Iris rubbed his head, waking him from his slumber. He looked around groggily, unsure of where he was, although he had only been asleep for no more than five minutes.  
  
He stared at her, his gaze unnaturally cold. Iris smiled, knowing what he was thinking. She could do that, she knew the men in her life so well, they both had one-track minds. For Vash, it was food, her, and Blake. For Blake, it was drinking, girls, and food. Nothing else. She and Vash would never matter to him. Considering the circumstances.  
  
She broke Blake's gaze as she turned to Nick. She wasn't sure what to tell him. It was a delicate situation. He had explained that he was sheriff, and there was a bit of a bounty building up on her son. Not for deaths, but for property damage. Mainly machinery. As Blake's mother, Iris would never let him go to jail, not if she could help, the last thing she needed was him hating her for something else.  
  
Iris linked her fingers and rested her chin upon her hand. She spoke slowly, carefully. "Where is Ryu?"   
  
Nick looked down at his drink for a long moment. He was unsure of what to say. How could he tell her now. He should have told her when it happened, but he never could catch up with Vash and Iris.  
  
"She passed away 14 years ago."  
  
Iris felt her breath escape her. She couldn't understand. 14 years ago? That would have been when Blake was two, just six years after they split up. Iris had missed her sister all these years, and she had hoped so much that she would be able to see her again. But now all that hope had left her. Vash got up and pulled her gently from her chair. "Excuse us."  
  
Blake was left alone with his "cousin" and his "uncle." The tension in the room grew as he received death glares from both Kira and Nicholas.   
  
Kira stood up suddenly, startling both men. "I'm leaving before I puke."  
  
Nick went back to staring at Blake.   
  
"Can you blame me?" Nick looked startled. What did he just say? Could he?   
  
"If you think that's a compliment or it in anyway makes things better, you got a lot to learn kid." He calmly took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, looked at Blake as the boy gave him pleading eyes, and turned to leave.   
  
Blake got his head out of the gutter for one moment. "Wait! Where can we find you? I know Vash and Iris seem to like you."  
  
Nick blinked for a moment. Why didn't he just call them mom and dad? He never would understand the younger generation, something he regretted.   
  
He sighed, then grabbed a pen and paper off the counter top. He scribbled down an address and laid the paper down in front of Blake. He put up his hand in a symbolic 'goodbye,' and proceeded out the door. 


	3. Chapter 3

B. T. S.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Whoever said you can't run from your past was wrong. You can. But not for too long. One day, it will all fall down on you, and for the rest of your small, meaningless, miserable life, you'll wish that you could do it over. You'll wish that there was some way that you could do things over, or even some way to make it better, easier. But you never will.   
  
As Blake walked down the street, his headphones blaring and clouds of dust rising about his feet, he noticed the weary gazes of the towns people. Word had probably spread all over by now of who he was. He wondered if going the bar would ever be the same.  
  
He went to the ususal table in the far back corner. A couple old men looked at him disgustedly. He sighed. Kira didn't even work here anymore. So why was he here? But, what did it matter if she still worked there or not. She was his cousin, and he firmly disapproved of inbreeding, dammit.   
  
The bartender was hesitant to give him a drink because now he knew that he was underage, but upon Blake looking at him with his cold eyes, he seemed to more forgiving.  
  
Blake sat in the corner the rest of the night, drinking slowly, waiting to be kicked out at one o'clock, which, in the end, seemed to come just a bit too early for him.   
  
The blonde boy walked down the streets casually. He felt something though, something he didn't like. It was familiar, but uncertain at the same time. He couldn't quite understand what this was. He turned down an alley, and just as he turned, he shifted his pace ever so slightly, allowing him to pick up on the patter of footfalls behind him.   
  
Probably someone from the bar hoping to pick up his bounty.   
  
He walked fast. Within minutes of swerving between buildings and crawling through open windows, he had lost his followers. They really could not have been too bright to have been ditched so easily. Unless. Blake whirled around the buildings corner to confirm his suspicions. Nearly 50 robots stood before him. Their one red eye lit up as they scanned him, attempting to check his identity. Blake's head buzzed, his own thoughts were clouded with the humming noises all the mech. were making. He fell to his knees, unable to process a simple command such as run to his brain.   
  
The mechanical eyes flashed as they raised their arms, guns mounted. Before firing, a voice arose above the electrical buzzing.  
  
"Blair, I'm disappointed in you. I expected much better. Your stronger than a million of these little robots. All you need to do is let go and come back to me. Otherwise, I'll be forced to destroy you here."   
  
That name. It struck a trigger in the boys head. His blue eye flashed. He stood up and faced the robots. One by one, they all fell, 'internal error' flashing across their eyes.   
  
Blake turned to walk away, his eyes cold, unmoving, but he stumbled, unable to catch himself, he fell. He stayed there, face down in the dirt until morning, when he woke up with the whispers of the townspeople filling his head. Some men were carrying off the bodies of the robots. He stood up quickly remembering where he was, then ran through the line of frightened people to Vash's.   
  
Vash would know what had happened. He had to know. This whole thing was his fault! He would know who had been talking to him, who had sent all those robots.   
  
'Come back to me, or I'll destroy you now.' the words haunted his mind, plagued his conscience. Did he say 'destroy' to be cute, or did he know? 


	4. Chapter 4

Oh, it's been so long, and I got bored today, so here's another chapter for anyone who is actually reading this still.

Chapter 4 Build Up

They say all lies eventually lead to one truth. Well, is that a lie? Or is it true? If it's a lie, then where is the truth? How can we tell the truth if we won't even listen to the truth as it flies through the air, slinging it's message in the face of all those who have tried so hard to make things better by creating lies. Just a little philosophy for you to think about.

"Tell me dammit! You know! And don't feed me lies like you have been for last how many years! I want to know this time!"

Vash stared for a moment in the eyes of the desperate youth in front of him. It shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't want to know. He shouldn't have to tell him. It wasn't time yet. Why couldn't they just not know anything and then they could all live happily?! Vash was at a complete loss. He didn't know anything that he could say to make all the lies of the years built up right. There was nothing that could ever make it right. But then, had he ever thought there was?

Blake punched the table, sending slivers flying from the hard wood top. "Who was that psycho? What's wrong Vash, can't get yourself to tell me what you thing of me? You know I'm some sort of monster!"

Again, Vash sat in silence, trying not to break under the looming pain and grief that was hanging over him like a dark cloud.

"Why do I look so much like you? I have no features that resemble Iris, and yet I'm not really a plant like you am I? What the hell am I Vash? Tell me!! Who is Blair!"

"Honey, I bought some of your favorite doughnuts at the store-"

Iris stopped midsentence as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. The grocery bag fell the floor, the goods it had held ruined. She look terrified. Not because the table was ruined. But somehow, she seemed to sense the pain that was clinging to her husband's face and the torment that was gripping Blake's sole.

He lowered his gaze. She couldn't be his mother. But then why did it hurt so much every time he hurt her? When he was younger and he didn't get his way, he would scream that he hated her, and she would fall to her knees and hold her head tightly, as if some unseen thing were trying to wrench it apart.

No, it wasn't what he said to her.

He had done something to her.

Blake choked back a sob as he looked at her stunned face. He turned and ran out.

"Blake, wait!!"

Vash scrambled to get out of his chair but fell to the floor. "Dammit!" Iris knelt beside him to try and help him to his feet. Vash looked at her face. She was calm and composed.

The city they lived in was a small, dug in city, living within a giant pothole surrounded by desert. Blake often scaled the walls of the basin to sit at the top. If you wanted to see a great sunset, this was the place to be. But now, he came here to think. He pressed his memory hard. What was it that he did to Iris? What was that he had done to the bartender the other night that compelled him to give him a drink?

He pushed.

That was it. There was something in his mind, some force, and he could push it out towards someone, and they bent to his will.

But.

What the hell did that mean?

His head was pounding now. But the sound was hollow, not the sound of blood rushing through veins, but it was something that was pulsing. It was something that was alive, wasn't it?

It wasn't just his head. His whole body ached. A sudden exhaustion had come over. Perhaps it was climbing the 200 foot wall that hid the small town from outside pain, but even when he was younger, scaling the wall had never been any trouble for him. Then what? Had the encounter with-whatever-that-guy's-name-was-wear him out? No. It wasn't that. And Lord knows he had had enough sleep. So what then?

He didn't know. He couldn't figure it out. It was something that was weighing on his mind so heavily, it stopped all logical thought process. His eyes fluttered softly as sleep began to catch on his eyelids. His head nodded a few times and he tried to shake himself awake. He didn't want to sleep, he still had so many things he had to think about!

But he oculdn't fight it any longer, and why even bother? He let his eyes close, and let his head fall to the side to the ground.

But apparently he had been sitting next to a hill. His head met the "ground" sooner than it should have, and the "ground" was warm.

And soft.

And wonderfully smooth.

"Could you please get off my shoulder?" The voice was so light, so smooth. He would never forget, no matter how much he hated blood and blood relations and all that stuff that said that marriage inside the family was bad and so forth.

"Sorry."

A silence followed. There wasn't much to say.

Except.

"You're still laying on me."

Finally, and with no small amount of effort, Blake moved. Pain shot through his head and he doubled over, falling merely inches from the edge of the cliff. One roll and he would have a ticket to the ride of a lifetime. One that would send him hurtling down through the air and leave him six feet underground. Sorry folks. Can't ride that one twice though.

Kira grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the edge and pulled his head into her lap. She tucked her hair behind her ear so she could see into his face properly.

Blake opened one eye, and as he studied her features, marveling at how the red sun made a halo around her dark hair, he found all his pain disappearing.

"Are you okay?" She seemed genuinely worried.

Well, he wished she did. Really, she seemed skeptical. Silly girl probably thought that he was faking it so she would be nice to him.

Normally, and he was tempted to do so even under the current circumstances, he wanted to answer her, "now that you're here I am."

But he couldn't speak. He didn't want to. He closed eyes, certain that the peace he felt was on account of his soul leaving his body and that any moment now he would find himself going down a long dark tunnel to some fucking brighter-than-the-sun light to find some pompous I'm-holier-than-you creator.

"You're not gonna fall asleep and leave me like this are you?" But he was already gone. She sighed. He was cute. Somehow, she couldn't believe that she was related to him. The way things were, it just didn't seem right to her.

Well, you know the drill, please review for me! 


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